It was the middle of winter and I was wearing my blue carhardt coveralls and boots. I think at that time I was carrying a black leather bag the actual purpose of which I don't know, but it was roomy and had pockets for separating various items. I was happy with it and it was not one of those obligatory $365 "pocketbooks" of a doctor's kit everyone gets when they are young, fresh and happy. I am old, seasoned up and my mood is whatever the mountain's is of course, which is why it lets me live there. It know me by my smell.
So, anyway I'm trapsing out through the melting ice and Arkansas Red Clay mud we are so famous for and as I am approaching my destination, bag in hand and all earnest intent the screen door opens and the old coot sticks his hillbilly head out and says "Yew look like a hoss vet!" - I never missed a beat - I just looked at him as cockeyed and answered back "Well if I'da knowed it was gonna be you, I'da gone ta Vetinary School!"
You gotta be frosty up here - They don't well suffer fools.
Till next time....
Dr. Karl Buchanan
at Yellville, Arkansas
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